


Dancing for Sam Winchester - Part 3

by Winchester_with_Wings



Series: Dancing for Sam Winchester [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: DO NOT COPY, DO NOT REPLICATE, Do Not Translate, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-27 07:24:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6275089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winchester_with_Wings/pseuds/Winchester_with_Wings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam caught you dancing in the shower this morning. Dean found out the two of you were together later that day. The end of the night raises questions in your mind. Is this really happening? What’s next? What happens tomorrow? Will I wake up alone?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dancing for Sam Winchester - Part 3

**Author's Note:**

> It’s way shorter than the first two parts but that’s because I don’t want to make ya’ll wait any longer. If I have a piece for ya I’m gonna share it. I hope ya’ll like it. Feedback is appreciated!

Dean doesn’t emerge from his room for the rest of the night. At one point, you to go to your room to retrieve a book and you hear what sounds like Dr Sexy on Netflix coming from his room. Is he actually hiding from you and Sam? 

It’s not like you two are going to get it on in a shared space like the library. Though now that you think of it, the idea intrigues you and a sudden rush of desire makes you shiver. But you lock it down.

You and Sam spend a couple of hours in library where the silence is only broken by Sam’s iPod. You’ve stashed your music player away because it’s a reminder of the day you’ve had. The sensitivity and soreness between your legs is another one. More than once Sam glances up at you when you squirm in your seat, clenching your thighs together.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you say, practically sticking a nose in your book. You’re blushing and trying to hold back a smile. Sam smirks at you like giddy teenage boy.

“I can’t help it. Every time you move like that I think about you, and about how I want you moving like that in my lap. Grinding against me,” Sam mutters those last words under his breath like a low growl, like he couldn’t help but say that out loud.

You lean forward with your elbows on the table and your hands fly to your face in embarrassment. “Jesus, Sam! Why are you teasing me like this?” you say, peeking at him between your fingers. Sam chuckles and shrugs.

“I guess because I like too. I like having this effect on you,” he explains. Your hands drop to the table, revealing your face.

“You’ve always had an effect on me,” you say, unabashed and rolling your eyes. Sam laughs and reaches across the table to hold your hand. Your eyes look up to meet his warm hazel puppy dog eyes

“Same here.”

You’re able to stifle your giggle but you can’t help that your look away again, bashful. After a second of silence and tension hanging in the air, you say, “It’s getting late. I think I’m going to go to bed.” You stand up and Sam reluctantly releases your hand which allows you to stack the books and newspapers you’ve read. He nods his agreement and does the same.

You have butterflies in your stomach as the two of you walk down the hall towards your bedrooms. Is Sam going to sleep in your room? Should you sleep in his room? Should you sleep in your own beds?

That moment of truth comes too quickly. The bunker’s not that big. But the man that pins you against the wall is.

Sam practically pounces on you. His arms snake around your waist as his whole body traps you between a wall of metal and the wall of muscle that is his chest. His mouth is on your throat so fast that it reminds you of an animal going in for the kill. You don’t know whether to scream or moan; his teeth grazing over your skin furthers that delicious dilemma.

His right leg presses itself between yours and you’re short enough that his thigh rubs perfectly against your sex. You can’t help but grind yourself down on his denim-clad thigh. Your hands card through his hair pulling hard enough that he growls before relenting and letting you raise his head enough for his lips to capture yours.

It’s magnetic.

The way his mouth seeks to touch you, to connect whether it’s your lips, jaws, ears, or throat. He loves the way you’re grinding against his leg almost as much as you. You’re so tense and ready for release and the hard pressure of his thigh is almost enough. But it’s not. His cock is as hard as marble and it’s pressing painfully against your hip. One of Sam’s hands releases your waist so that it can reach up and squeeze your right breast.

“Mmph, fuck,” he mutters, tearing his lips away from yours. “I’ll never get enough of you. My hands have been itching to be on you since we left my room.” His mouth crashes back to yours, swallowing you response.

You want to tell him to never stop. To take you right here in the hallway and any other way you and he want it. You don’t want this to end. You never imagined that it would happen at all and if you stop, would it ever happen again? It’s like you and Sam are in a heated, frenzied, fantasy or dream. And if you wake up, you’ll forget it. How real is all this? It’s only been one day. Several sessions of sex, yes, but only within less than 24 hours.

Sam is consuming you. You can feel it.

His scent, as you tilt your head to expose your neck to him and your nose is pressed to his throat–

His taste, as his tongue delves into your mouth and slides over your tongue–

His body, as he rocks into you and builds a friction between your bodies which might be hot enough to meld you together–

And his soul, as he moans into your mouth like he’s breathing the breath of life into you and you whimper because you want more–

It’s engulfing you and filling you with a dazed warmth that’s so comforting that if it left, you would notice. You would feel the absence, the pain. You’re willing to give your heart to him and you need to know that it will be safe with him. You’ve already been vulnerable in front of him once today.

His hand roams lower, getting between your bodies, so that he can cup your sex and press through your clothing to your damp center. Your hand comes away from his shoulder where you’ve been holding on for leverage in your attempts to grind against him. You shackle his wrist with your short fingers to stop him from moving forward.

“Wait!” You gasp out, pulling your lips from his. “Wait, Sam,” you whisper, breathless. “We need to stop.”

Sam allows you push him away. Your hand flattened against his chest doesn’t push hard enough to make him move so for he’s the one who’s respecting you and backing off. The warmth from his thigh between your legs disappears and you miss it desperately. You release his wrist as well. Sam’s brow is furrowed and the look in his eyes is full of confusion and concern.

“Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?” he asks. He reaches out to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. You kiss the inside of his wrist as his hand falls away.

“No. You didn’t do anything wrong. I just…” You sigh, “I just…think that we shouldn’t spend the night together.” There’s glint of disappointment in Sam’s eyes. “Just for tonight, at least.” You frame Sam’s face between your hands. “I don’t want us to burn so hot at first that we fizzle out the next day. I want to wake up tomorrow and know that this is real. That it’s not a dream. That what we have between us…is more than just one day of…” you pause to give him a giddy smile and Sam’s chuckles, the corner of his mouth tilting up.

“Hot sex?”

“Yeah,” you giggle.

“So then, this is good night,” Sam says, leaning in to press his soft pink lips to yours.

“Good night,” you murmur, kissing him a few more times before forcing yourself to pull back. You walk away, holding onto Sam’s hand as long as you can before letting it drop to your side. You take the remaining steps towards your bedroom down the hall. “Sweet dreams, Sammy.” You reach for the doorknob of your bedroom.

“After watching you walk away…watching your hips sway…I’ll definitely have sweet dreams,” Sam calls after you. He’s leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He’s looking you up and down with a hunger gleaming in his eyes. You hadn’t noticed that your hips were swaying but apparently he had. “Everything you do reminds me of your dancing.”

You chew on your bottom lip, say “Good,” and then wink at him before disappearing into the quiet, empty darkness of your room.

And to think…you almost had Sam Winchester in your bed tonight. You hope you didn’t make a mistake.


End file.
